


The Thing With Feathers

by NifflersNogtailsNargles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Diary/Journal, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NifflersNogtailsNargles/pseuds/NifflersNogtailsNargles
Summary: Hermione's eyes grew wide. This was Harry's dad's journal. Why had Luna given this to her? She turned the page and kept reading, searching for answers. Page after page, she found herself drawn in. Drawn in by the tension, the pain, the constant uncertainty that was all too familiar.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & James Potter, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22
Collections: Hermione's Personal Library 2020





	The Thing With Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us"  
> -JRR Tolkien

_Two years._

It played like a mantra in her head. She was twenty one years old, and she would be dead in two years. She stared blankly at the ceiling of her bedroom, the way she had for the past day and a half. Her tears had dried long ago, and now she just felt empty. She didn't move even when she'd heard Harry's anguished cries, or the crashing of furniture as it was flung around the room. He'd have to get used to dealing with things without her soon enough anyway.

She kept staring as she heard the creaking door open. The footsteps that followed were light, uneven. _Luna_. She and Harry had been an unexpected couple, but perfect for each other. Hermione felt a stab in her gut when she thought of the things she'd never see. She'd never see them married, or meet their children.

“Hermione?”

She stayed silent as she felt the bed dip where Luna settled in beside her.

“It's okay if you don't want to talk,” she said, gently smoothing Hermione's curls. “It's okay to be sad. Grieve, cry, do whatever you need to. But then come back to us. We need you.”

Hermione felt a tear spring from her eye and run down her face.

“But until then, I have something for you” She felt a weight on her chest before Luna rose and exited the room. Curious, she flicked her eyes downwards. It was a red, leather-bound journal. For the first time in over a day, she sat up. Intrigued, she cracked it open.

_September 1st, 1979_

_Mum,_

_I miss you so much it hurts. Lily says that she talks to her mum sometimes, and it helps. So this is my version of that, I suppose._

_I'm scared Mum. Remus is away for months at a time, and he looks thinner by the day. Padfoot is angry all the time and Lily is a nervous wreck. Every day I grow more sure that I'm not going to survive this war. Even Dumbledore seems worried._

_Anyway, I have to go. We have another Order meeting tonight. Love you._

_Say hi to Dad for me,_

_James_

Hermione's eyes grew wide. This was Harry's dad's journal. Why had Luna given this to her? She turned the page and kept reading, searching for answers. Page after page, she found herself drawn in by the tension, the constant uncertainty that was all too familiar.

_December 25th, 1979_

_Hi Mum!_

_Merry Christmas. I have news... Lily's pregnant! Can you believe I'm going to be a dad? I can't. Padfoot almost pissed himself laughing when I told him._

_Do you think I'll be any good at it? I know Lily will make a great mum. Merlin knows she's been looking after us lot long enough. The baby's due on the 2nd of August the Healer said. I know the world is falling apart, and the future is uncertain, but I can't help but feel blessed. Is it wrong to be happy with everything else going on around us? I don't know, but I am anyway._

_Wish me luck!_

_James._

On and on it went, weeks and months of entries. Hermione marvelled at the hope woven throughout. It was ever-present, unshakeable. She felt a fragile sort of strength seep back into her bones. Heartened, she continued.

_August 1st, 1980_

_Happy belated birthday!_

_Sorry I couldn't write yesterday, but something amazing happened. He's here!_

_Harry James Potter. My son._

_Can you believe he decided to show up on your birthday? I know you would have loved that. He's beautiful, Mum. He has my hair (poor lad!) and Lily's eyes. He cries all the time, and I'm shattered, but he's worth every bit of it. You should see Padfoot with Harry, he hasn't left his side since he was born. Moony says that I should leave the fight now, that I need to be there for him, and he's right. But I can't stop. I won't._

_I keep thinking of all the other mums and dads who'll never get to see their children again if we lose this war. So I'll carry on. I have to. There's too much work to be done._

_I hope you're proud,_

_James_

Hermione smiled a bittersweet smile, filled with admiration for his spirit, and sorrow that he never got to know the wonderful person his son grew up to be. She read long into the night, the sun just beginning to rise as she reached the final entry.

_October 30th, 1981_

_Hi Mum,_

_It's Halloween tomorrow. Remember when I was little and you would turn the Manor into a Haunted House? I wish we could do that for Harry, but we can't even take him trick or treating. Oh well, he's only little, he won't remember it. Lily got him a pumpkin costume and she's baked some Halloween cupcakes. I think she's trying to distract herself._

_The truth is, I think I might be joining you soon. I'm a target, we all are. I can't talk to anyone about it, but I know that I won't get out of this alive. I know this because I'll die before I let anything happen to Lily or Harry. Strangely though, I think I'm okay with it._

_Obviously its not okay that I'll never get to see Harry grow up, or die old and grey with Lily, but at least I'll know that I died for something, that I made a difference. I think of the people we've saved, and I know that my life mattered. What is it that you used to say?_

_The quality of a life isn't measured by years, but by what we do with them._

_I miss you,_

_James._

Hermione smiled through tears as she closed the book. She thought of all that she had accomplished, and all that she still could. Wiping her eyes, she got up out of bed and made her way towards her desk.

There was work to be done.


End file.
